


Ain't No Glory in the West

by mssrj_335



Series: FinnPoe Purple Prose [9]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cowboys, Established Relationship, Hopeful Ending, Inspired by Music, Just sad in general, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, POV Finn (Star Wars), POV Poe Dameron, Purple Prose, Reminiscing, Reunions, Sad Cowboys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:34:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26583706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssrj_335/pseuds/mssrj_335
Summary: Poe's been gone, ridden miles and miles. He's finally coming home.
Relationships: Finn/Poe Dameron, Finnpoe, Poe Dameron/Finn, Stormpilot - Relationship
Series: FinnPoe Purple Prose [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1744870
Comments: 16
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ghostmilky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostmilky/gifts).



> [Here's the inspo song for you. Highly recommend for full feels](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TU0TAsEjUpg)

Cold bites every inch of his skin. It has teeth, just like any animal, and it’s just as wild. There’s no taming it. A lesson hard-learned. He tucks his face deeper into the blue of his scarf. The smell of home, and Finn, is long gone.

But he remembers it.

BeeBee’s hooves drag beneath him. He’ll have to walk soon. He’s just so tired. Everything he’s known has left him hollow. Only one thought now. _A little farther, just a little more_. Home is just around the bend.

That’s what he tells himself.

When night falls, he hitches BeeBee to a barren tree. Talks to him as he gathers anything he can for a fire. When they’re hunkered down together against the wind and the snow, his voice shakes as he tells BeeBee the same stories over and over again. Is it to reassure his horse that they’re not alone? No. He knows better. He’s telling the stories for himself.

So he doesn’t forget.

He dreams of summer. Cold, fresh water. Fields and fields of prairie, waving for miles. Dark skin, soft kisses. Rolling together in that long grass when the days work is done. Looking down at Finn. Darker eyes, softer smile. A promise that stretched for miles, endless as the plains. Nowhere to go, nothing more to know.

God, he shouldn’t have ever left.

Dreams turn sour just as the sun starts to rise. Bright, like betrayal. Finn hadn’t meant to show him that face, he’s sure of it. But he saw it all the same. Even in his dreams, his heart constricts. Fit to burst. Finn stands away from him, backlit by dying dusty light. Hands clenched tight on the sink behind him. The walls fall away. Creaking floorboards. Yawning space. Empty words, empty promises. He can’t look him in the eye, all he sees are the crescent-shaped marks left by Finn’s nails in the wood.

_“Do you have to go? There ain’t no glory out there.”_

_“I’m not lookin’ for glory. Wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to.”_

_“What says you **have**_ _to? You have a home here. A good life. With me.”_

_Why do you want to give it up? The unspoken question, sinking as much in his heart as into the cracks in the floor._

_“Whatever you’re chasin’, do you think you’ll find it?”_

_That hurts. More than he would ever say. “I’m not **chasin**_ ’ _anything. You know that.”_

_Don’t you?_

_Unsaid._

_“Yeah,” Finn sighs. “I do.” A quick kiss, a brush goodbye. “You make sure you come on home then.”_

_He hates to even ask. “You’ll be here?”_

_Oh, there’s that look. It hurts the most. Brows drawn, eyes downcast. Fingers linger on his chin. “Yeah.”_

Light wakes him from the memory. Time to go. BeeBee’s saddled up. This is the last stretch to home. Through valley, over hill. At last it crests. Endless fields, still. Their cabin, dark. He tips his hat down. Spurs BeeBee as fast as he can. The snow’s starting to clear. No tracks at the edges. He jumps from his horse’s back. Barrels in the door.

“Finn!”

_I’m here._

_I’m home._

“Where are you?”

Empty rooms.

Bed’s made.

Dust.

“Finn?”

His heart plummets.

No one’s been here for a while.

He’s too late.

He sinks to the kitchen table, head in his hands. Throat tight. He pushes a hand through his hair. His hat hits the floor. Through tears hot, unspent behind his eyes, he spies a letter. Folded neat, his name scrawled in familiar hand.

_Oh god, what will it say?_

He hopes.

He opens the letter.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s too empty. The narrow halls and empty bed echo with it. It follows him, like an animal. There’s no taming it. He buries his face in their pillows. The smell of home, and Poe, is long gone.

But he remembers it.

He pulls himself from their bed as he does every day, gathers his things. Locks up the house. He leaves a letter on the table for Poe to find. He’s so tired, but what else can he do? Has to keep going. It’s the only thing gives him comfort now. _A little longer, just a little more_. 

That’s what he tells himself.

Out in the wilds, seas of broken grass surround him. Shattered by ice and snow and wind. He talks to Dio as he works. Making his rounds on their land, blazing on ahead. Telling the same stories over and over again. His voice carries over the plains. Is it to reassure his horse that they’re not alone? No. He knows better. He’s telling the stories so Poe can find his way.

So he doesn’t forget.

He thinks of summer, before. Quiet mornings. Riding prairies for miles. Gentle hands, soft kisses. Laying together under leafy limbs at the river’s edge. Looking up at Poe. Gentler words, softer smile. A promise living and breathing, clear as cold water splashing their feet. 

He wishes Poe would've stayed.

It hurt, stings like betrayal. Even in dreams, his heart breaks at the news. Poe reaches for him, lit bright in dying dusty light. Army letter shaking in his hand. He clings to the sink behind him so he doesn’t reach back. But he understands. Poe had to leave. He had to stay. 

_“They called me back for a while.”_

_He sighs. Been a long time coming._

_Part of him simmers in bitterness. After all Poe had done, “Won’t give you no peace, will they?”_

_“It’s not that simple.”_

_“Do you have to go? There ain’t no glory out there.”_

_“I’m not lookin’ for glory. Wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to.”_

_“What says you_ **_have_ ** _to? You have a home here. A good life. With me.”_

_Will you make it back? The unspoken question. Poe’s pride, his own selfishness. Death. All sharp, pendulous above them._

_ Silence. _

_“Whatever you’re chasin’, do you think you’ll find it?”_

_He regrets it, instantly. Poe’s eyes tell him all he needs._

_“I’m not_ **_chasin’_ ** _anything. You know that.”_

_“Yeah,” he sighs. “I do.” A quick kiss, a goodbye. “You make sure you come on home then.”_

_Don’t go._

_“You’ll be here?”_

_That hurts. More than he would ever say. “Yeah…”_

_Of course._

_Unsaid._

The day wanes. Time to go back to that empty place. That hollow home, waiting for its heart. Through valley, over hill. At last it crests. Their cabin, lit again. Poe’s horse outside. His heart leaps. Down the hill, running blind through the door.

“Poe!”

_You’re here._

_You’re home._

“Finn?”

Poe stands. No space, no more space now.He cradles that face so long gone. Presses their foreheads together, able to breathe for the first time in ages.

The letter flutters from Poe’s hands, face up on cracking floorboards.

A promise.

_If you read this and I’m not here, I want you to remember what this house means. What you meant to me. This place wasn’t the same without you. I’m not going to be gone long, just a little while. I’ll be back. I promised I would. When I get there, we can set this all right._

_If you read this before I get back, know that I love you._

_Yours,_

_F_


End file.
